


Scintilla

by Baconfat



Series: the only light we see [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, Luna lives, Post-Chapter 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 22:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baconfat/pseuds/Baconfat
Summary: Lunafreya surfaced out of darkness to find herself lying in a soft, strange bed, her insides aching.On her left, Ravus stood at her bedside, his face stained with soot and streaked with sweat. Or tears. On her right was a faintly familiar young man, eyes wide with concern, his hair a blond mess and his face scattered with freckles.





	Scintilla

**Author's Note:**

> The Oracle, the King of Lucis, and the royal retinue have all survived the Revelation of Leviathan. Barely. 
> 
> Now what?

Lunafreya surfaced out of darkness to find herself lying in a soft, strange bed, her insides aching.

On her left, Ravus stood at her bedside, his face stained with soot and streaked with sweat. Or tears. On her right was a faintly familiar young man, eyes wide with concern, his hair a blond mess and his face scattered with freckles.

She was in a guest room at the First Secretary's Estate. The same room where she'd been a reluctant guest for the last few days, watching and waiting for Noctis's arrival.

Noctis. She tried to sit up and the others stopped her, but not before she felt the lurching pain in her gut, deep and _wrong_. She held it in, biting her lip, trying to breathe through it when every breath brought a fresh stab of pain.

Each one brought with it the memory of the Imperial Chancellor, with his flat eyes and his sick smile, driving the knife in.

"Careful!" The boy said.

"Don't _touch_ her," Ravus snapped.

"Noctis," Lunafreya panted. "Is he safe?"

Ravus's face twisted.

"Yeah," the boy said. "He's in the next room. Hasn't woken up yet, but," he laughed, weakly, "that's Noct for you. Here, this'll help." He pulled a bottle out of his pocket and held out... an energy drink.

Lunafreya blinked.

"Drink it," Ravus ordered.

She looked at him.

Grudgingly, he said, "Your wayward prince's bespectacled servant used these to revive you on the altar."

"Noct made this," the boy added, twisting the top off the bottle and handing it to her.

Ravus scowled, leaning in, gently helping her lift her head. "At least he's good for _something_."

"I mean, he doesn't, like, brew his own high-fructose corn syrup," the boy went on, fingers fluttering in the direction of the bottle, "but he does this cool glowy thing that turns this stuff into curatives."

Lunafreya was familiar with the concept. Had even made her own curatives, once or twice, for those too sick to travel. But in her experience they were usually made from milk, or mineral water.

The drink inside was blue and glowing dimly. The smell of it was cloying and artificial and unpleasantly familiar. She was struck by a dark muddle of memories — waking up coughing and sputtering while Ravus poured the liquid down her throat with the aid of a stranger wearing spectacles.

She shut her eyes and drank all of it as quickly as she could. It was an effort of will not to gag. In its wake, the drink left an odd electric tingling all the way down her throat and into her stomach. A few seconds of strange numbness, and then the aftertaste set in.

She grimaced in spite of herself.

The boy handed her a bottle of water. "Sorry," he said. "Not too tasty, but it definitely does the trick! If you can keep it down, anyway."

She swallowed all the water she could before breathing out, "Thank you."

"No prob! I'm really glad you're awake, it's _so_ good to finally meet you! I'm, uh, I'm Prompto by the way." He waved. "And I mean, obviously I know who you are, Lady Lunafreya, I'm like... your number one fan. Okay, maybe number two, after Noct, but —"

"Silence," Ravus spat.

Lunafreya ignored him. "Prompto," she repeated. That name. "You're Noctis's friend," she realized. "The photographer."

He lit up, his eyes widening even further. "Yeah! That's -- wow! That's me! How did you know?"

A laugh slipped out of her. "Noctis sent me some of your photographs."

"Seriously?! He never said anything!"

"They were lovely," she told him. "I still —"

"By the Stars," Ravus swore. "Enough of this nonsense. You're not safe here, sister."

She drew a breath. "If Noctis is here," she said, and Prompto nodded emphatically, "then I am exactly where I need to be."

"This city is in ruins," Ravus argued, "and what remains of the Altissian Guard is occupied with searching for survivors. When the Chancellor sends his soldiers for you, this is the first place they'll look."

"Uh," Prompto said, "I've been listening to the radio, and rumour has it that Noct and the Oracle are, um, dead."

Lunafreya breathed a sigh of relief. That gave them time. 

"And the High Commander is missing," Prompto added. "Presumed dead."

"Ravus," Lunafreya said. "This is your chance. Leave the Empire and —"

"And do _what_ , Lunafreya?" Ravus snapped. "Leave our people without leadership and our borders without protection, while you try to convince that _boy_ to act like a king?"

"Help us retake the Crystal."

"To what end?" Ravus demanded. "So he can hide behind a Wall again and leave the rest of us to fight? He's a coward, Lunafreya, like his father before him."

"Four of the Six have granted Noctis their blessing," Lunafreya reminded him, aware that she was wasting her breath, but unable to stop herself. This was an old argument, that Ravus had lost long ago. He would never admit defeat. "A blessing that can only be earned by courage and persistence."

"And by entreaty from the Blood of the Oracle," Ravus pointed out. "The gods have given _you_ their blessing, and it's fallen on him by association. Their faith in you is justified, but your belief in that boy is not."

"You're blinded by envy," Lunafreya told him. 

"And you're blinded by faith! The Prophecy is nothing more than a wish, that some beacon of light will come and save us from darkness. The Empire will not be defeated by hope, sister. And putting your faith in the Prophecy is no different than that craven king putting his faith in the Crystal."

It was an unexpected blow. She was well accustomed to dealing with skeptics and doubters, but to hear this from him... "You believed wholeheartedly in the Prophecy until the moment the Ring rejected you."

He bared his teeth. "Exactly. I fought. I believed. I had the will to save this world, but they refused to grant me their power. I would have been their champion. Would have gladly given my life to save you. But they would choose a weak and sheltered prince over a ready savior. The gods are as blinded by that prophecy as you are."

"Noctis was chosen by the will of the Crystal," she said, exhausted.

Ravus scoffed. "He was chosen by circumstance. The Empire has risen and the Starscourge is spreading. It needs to be stopped, now, and he is the only living heir to the Lucian throne. If you truly believe in the Prophecy, then there _are_ no other choices."

"Noctis is alive now _because_ he is needed," she argued. This was a waste of her time. "You have a choice, Ravus. You can help us to save our star or you can return to your Imperial masters and beg for their mercy."

"I _am_ helping you, sister. I am doing all I can to protect our people and to misdirect the Chancellor's hunt for you. I could protect you, if you would only return to the Manor and feign loyalty to the Empire."

"Never," she told him.

He laughed, bitterly. "I am High Commander of the Imperial Army. Given time, I'll have the ear of the Emperor himself, and with it the chance to either turn the Empire's might to our advantage, or slip a blade between his ribs. But instead you choose a king who has lost his kingdom. Who can barely protect himself."

"And you choose the army that took our home. The men who killed our mother. Because it gives you power."

"The power to _protect_ you!" he snapped.

"Power that was handed to you like scraps to a dog. We are the Blood of the Oracle, Ravus. We have our own power, granted to us by the gods themselves."

"The gods have made their choice," he growled. "Noctis has already failed you."

"He will —"

"You nearly _died_ , sister!" His voice faltered. "What if I'd lost you?" He drew a shaky breath. "What if the _world_ lost you? The prophecy would fail."

No. She had done her part. For as long as she could remember, she had known that she was an instrument of the gods' will, to be kept as long as she was useful. She'd thought Ravus understood it as well. "Noctis will succeed, one way or another. I've dreamt of it a thousand times, and seen him victorious a thousand ways." In some of those dreams, she was even at his side. 

"I've dreamt of his failures," Ravus snarled. "Nightmares that always end with our world in darkness and your blood on his hands." He was sweating, feverish, his eyes dark. 

There was sickness in his blood, feeding on his anger. "Give me your hand, brother," she said.

He gave it without thinking. 

She wrapped her hands around his and closed her eyes. "Blessed stars of life and light," she prayed. Ravus tried to jerk his hand away, but she held fast. "Deliver us from darkness' blight."

Warmth and light bloomed under her hands, and she remembered him as he once was: young and brave, her knight protector, her staunchest supporter. Their days as children, playing in the gardens, weaving crowns of sylleblossoms. The way he'd push her into the fountain in a fit of pique and then jump in himself to save her.

She'd never needed saving until they lost their mother, and by then he needed it more than she did.

The darkness that had taken hold of him then was beyond her power. But at least she could give him this: a few moments of light and peace while she purged his blood of the Starscourge.

When she let him go, he was trembling. He gazed at his own hand in horror. "How...? I should be immune!"

"The scourge is growing stronger," she told him. "Not even the gods are immune. Please, Ravus. Stay with me."

He looked back at her, his face unguarded, his will faltering. But it did not last. "I can do more for you as High Commander than I can at your side," he said, wiping his hand off on his filthy uniform.

"Go, then," she sighed.

He set his jaw. "That prophecy is a curse. If the only way to put an end to it is to kill that worthless prince, then so be it."

She'd purged the Starscourge. This was entirely his own darkness. "If you try to harm him, I _will_ strike you down." 

He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Prompto jumped. Then fidgeted awkwardly for a few moments at her bedside before asking, "Is he always like that?"

She sighed, lifting a hand to rub at her eyes. "Since our home was invaded."

His face fell. "R-right. Sorry."

She managed a smile for him, opening her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the door slamming open again. 

A very large man with a number of scars on his face looked around the room. "The hell's going on in here?"

"Uhh," Prompto tried. "Ravus just took off."

The scarred man gave a grunt. "Good riddance."

"Who are you?" Lunafreya asked.

"Huh?" The man blinked at her. "Oh, you're up." He bowed deeply. "Gladiolus Amicitia. Shield of the King. Good to see you're awake, Your Highness." He straightened up. "Need anything?"

"I wish to see Noctis," she said. 

Prompto, next to her, was shaking his head frantically.

Gladiolus arched an eyebrow at her. "Can you get up?"

"No!" Prompto protested. "She's lost a _ton_ of blood! If she passes out and cracks her head open walking down the hall Noct will _freak_."

Gladiolus shrugged. "Sorry, Princess. He's got a point. Noct's not going anywhere."

"Trust me," Prompto said. "As _soon_ as he's awake, he'll be in here."

Her chest was tight. "I need to know that he's safe."

"I... could take a photo?" Prompto suggested. 

She looked at him, not entirely sure if he was joking.

"He's safe," Gladiolus said, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "I wouldn't be here if he wasn't."

"Is he injured?"

"Don't think so," Gladiolus grunted. "Ignis must've used some Potions on him. He's just unconscious."

Ignis. She knew that name, as well.

"H-how is Iggy?" Prompto asked.

Gladiolus shook his head. "He's breathing."

"You have someone in need of healing?" she asked.

The two of them shared a look. "He's... he's in pretty bad shape," Prompto said.

"Burned," Gladiolus added.

Burned. She remembered the smell of burning flesh mixing with the scent of spilled Potions. Ravus slumped over her, unconscious. Noctis, lying on the altar with the Chancellor's knife to his throat. 

And the stranger, burning alive, his spectacles shattered and his voice turned inhuman, from pain or from power or both. _Whatever it takes, I will protect him._

"He's _alive?_ " she demanded.

They looked at her.

"Yeah," Gladiolus said roughly. "Takes more than that to take Iggy down."

A miracle. "He saved us," she said. 

Gladiolus swallowed, glaring at the floor. "Yeah."

"If you take me to him," she insisted, "I can attempt a healing."

Gladiolus took a breath and let it out, running a hand through his hair. "Soon as Iggy's up, I'll bring him in. I gotta go. Don't want him to wake up alone."

He left.

After a few moments of silence, Prompto cleared his throat. "So, um... do you need anything?"

She needed to see Noctis. And get him away from this place. Ravus was right about one thing, at least: they were not safe here. 

"Rest?" Prompto suggested.

"No, thank you." She was exhausted, but she would not be able to sleep until she saw Noctis.

"Do you... want to see some more pics?" Prompto asked.

She blinked.

"Got some real good ones of Noct," he said, grinning hopefully.

She found herself smiling, in spite of everything. "Show me."


End file.
